The Snipe Hunt
by Atana
Summary: Severus Snape's best friend Britomartis Vox falls for the old Snipe Hunt gag - and Peter Pettigrew will wish his father had never met his mother! A Snips and Spirals tale.


DISCLAIMER: Evan Ryper claims Snips and Spirals were not involved this time.  
  
--------------------

Snips and Spirals Fanfic:

"The Snipe Hunt"  
  
Text by Lady Tesser

--------------------  
  
Peter Pettigrew was not very bright.  
  
This was agreed on by nearly anybody who had any contact with him. His own Head of House, Professor McGonagall, once described him as a 'dull-witted, stupid boy' while Professor Penderdandis (Arithmancy instructor) outright called him 'chum but not as useful'. Professor Flitwick wrote in Pettigrew's student evaluation: 'Keeping this boy in school is depriving some poor village of its idiot.'  
  
For example, he believed a 'glacier' was a bloke who fixed windows. This was thick.  
  
Many wondered how he made it into Gryffindor at all. It was obvious his mental capacities cut him out of Ravenclaw and Slytherin, while he just did not have enough honesty in him for Hufflepuff.  
  
So why Gryffindor at all? (And not just because there was not a Loser House.)  
  
Everyone was about to find out.  
  
----------  
  
Britomartis Vox, Second-Year, was studying alone in the library after classes one afternoon in late September. Severus Snape, Fourth-Year (and her best friend), was studying in another part of the library (he insisted she did not need to come along), so she waited for him to finish.  
  
She was surprised to see Peter Pettigrew slip into the seat across from her. She gazed at his small eyes, bowl-cut blonde hair, pasty skin, and serious expression and commented, "Did they finally cut you loose, Rat- boy?"  
  
Pettigrew continued to look somber. "I caught wind about an interesting thing."  
  
"Why don't you follow the wind out of here?"  
  
"No, really, Vox. There's something you should know. It's about the Snipe."  
  
"The what?" she asked. He leaned close, making her pull back. "Watch it, you smell like you've been diving into the dumpster again."  
  
He ignored the comment. "The Snipe. It's a creature that lives out in the Forest and is starting to become extinct because of all the dangerous beasts in there. Hagrid's been trying to catch a pair to send somewhere else to make sure they survive, but he's having a hard time of it."  
  
"I see. So?"  
  
"I spotted some the other day when the guys and I were goofing off around the Forest. I'm pretty sure they're still in the area and I could catch them, but I can't really do it by myself."  
  
"So, get the rest of your girlfriends to help you." She held the book up in front of her face.  
  
He pulled the book down. "They don't want to do it. They're scared to go back into the Forest."  
  
"Then that means they have survival instincts. Which is incredible, considering who they are. Now leave me alone or I'll get Madame Pince to throw you out."  
  
"Vox, you're brave and stuff. Imagine how happy Hagrid will be if we bring him back some Snipes."  
  
"Imagine yourself telling Hagrid where they are so he can get them. Hint- hint."  
  
"No, I'll get in trouble for being in the Forest."  
  
"So, you want both of us in trouble for being alone in the Forest?"  
  
"We won't if we bring back some Snipes."  
  
She smirked, closing her book. "So you want me to be the hero on this quest?"  
  
He nodded. "You know I'm nothing but a sidekick."  
  
"Who should be kicked to the side," she muttered. "Well, Snips is doing his own work until dinner, so I have some free time. Might get an adventure out of it." She reached across and grabbed his tie, pulling his face close to hers, making him see his reflection in her sunglasses. "But if there's any trouble or double-crossing - I cut it OFF."  
  
"Um, what?" Pettigrew asked, turning pale.  
  
"Your tongue, of course. Truce is still in effect - you don't mess with me, and I don't mess with you."  
  
"Agreed," he answered, pulling back  
  
She released him. "Now, what do we need to go Snipe hunting?"  
  
----------  
  
A half hour later, having pilfered two flour sacks from near the kitchens, Martis and Pettigrew made their way down the open grass from the school toward the Forbidden Forest, being quiet and keeping low so Hagrid would not see them.  
  
"Do you have to bring your snake along?" Pettigrew asked nervously.  
  
"Shut your face," she answered, patting Medusa's head.  
  
Pettigrew held his sack close to his body, looking around. His blonde hair and round face seemed to almost glow in the eternal twilight of the Forest, his black robe not helping at all with the illusion that he was a floating head. Martis' knee-length hair made her more noticeable, even with her dark robe around her.  
  
The crickets were already singing in the late afternoon, becoming like the heartbeat of the Forest as their mating calls blended into a regular rhythm. The yellow, orange, red, and brown leaves overhead still provided quite a chill shade beneath their boughs.  
  
After a few more minutes, Pettigrew shivered from the cold and said, "All right. They were in this area. The way to catch them is to sit in an open area with the bag open, and call out 'Woo-hoo-hoo!' in a soft voice. They should jump right into the bag."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it's a call to safety - they think it's one of them calling the rest into a burrow to be safe."  
  
She nodded. "I can see that."  
  
"I'll go over here, " he said, leaving her in the clearing. "To do it, too."  
  
Pettigrew turned and scampered away back toward the school.  
  
"Hey, Rat-boy!" Martis called.  
  
Pettigrew bit his lip, then turned around and headed back. "What?"  
  
She looked up at him. "Just wanted to know if the calling sounds right - woo-hoo-hoo!"  
  
"Perfect," he answered. Sweating profusely, he turned back and transformed himself into a rat, scurrying for dear life.  
  
"WAIT A - " she shrieked. "MEDUSA - AFTER HIM!"  
  
Pettigrew now ran like no Animagus had run before.  
  
----------  
  
Dinner was mildly interrupted by the appearance of Martis Vox, her robe dirty and torn and holding a scruffy-looking rat in her grip. She marched up to the Gryffindor table (most of the Gryffindors getting up to stay out of the blast-radius around the Marauders) and slammed the rat's body on the table in front of Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin.  
  
Potter and Lupin jumped back, feeling her rage literally rolling off her skin with hot steam. Even with her eyes covered, they could FEEL her eyes burning holes into their bodies and souls.  
  
Sirius Black casually studied her appearance and the rat. "New diet?"  
  
She picked up the stunned rat. "THIS is your little sidekick Rat-boy, whom you all sent to trick me into going into the Forbidden Forest to look for Snipes!"  
  
"A Snipe Hunt?" Black repeated. He snickered, giggled, laughed, and then broke into a guffaw. "YOU FELL FOR THE OLD 'SNIPE HUNT' GAG?"  
  
The Gryffindor table tittered with giggles - one look from the enraged Martis shut them up quickly.  
  
Potter - more levelheaded - said, "We never sent him to do anything! The Truce - "  
  
"The Truce has been broken!" she exclaimed. "By pranking me to go on a Miipos Hunt, you broke the Truce yourselves!"  
  
Lupin blinked, then stood up. "Miss Bri - Vox - we had nothing to do with a Snipe Hunt. We three - "  
  
One side of her sunglasses fell off one ear, exposing a shocked green eye. "You mean this idiotic goit who loses a battle of wits with a stuffed iguana on a regular basis outsmarted me??"  
  
Black began cracking up harder and even Potter broke into a grin.  
  
Lupin felt the blood drain from his limbs. "I swear, Miss Vox, none of us would have done this because of the Truce!"  
  
She gazed at the rat coming to consciousness in her hand. "YOU thought this up on your own, you miserable prat??"  
  
The rat leapt out of her hand and transfigured back into Peter Pettigrew. He grinned. "I sure did! And I will be celebrated as the one Marauder who was able to pull one over on Brain-of-Mite Vox!"  
  
"That's 'Britomartis', you hadron-headed moron!"  
  
"You fell for a Snipe Hunt - that sounds like 'Brain-of-Mite' to me."  
  
She was about to release a broadside against his beach ball face when a pair of hands clasped her shoulders and pulled her away. "No, Spirals!" Sev's voice whispered harshly in her ear. "Don't! You'll be kicked off the Quidditch team for fighting in the Great Hall!"  
  
"Please, Severus, let me - this is my honor we're talking about!"  
  
"No!"  
  
Everyone was rather impressed by the spectacle of Severus Snape bodily picking up Britomartis Vox over his shoulder and carrying her out of the Great Hall, despite her kicking and screaming and promising to knock the heads of the Marauders together.  
  
After Black's laughter died down, he turned serious and gazed at Pettigrew. "Wormtail, my congratulations on pulling one over on Snake-Bitch."  
  
Pettigrew rubbed the back of his head. "Almost never made it out of there alive - her snake caught me, then we all got attacked by some big thing with teeth, then a Centaur showed up and ran us out." He began filling a plate with steak and kidney pie and potatoes. "So, now that I'm the hero of the Marauders - "  
  
Lupin said a nasty word that would have gotten him toilet-scrubbing duty by McGonagall. "You idiot! We were supposed to honor the Truce with them! What in bloody hell made you decide to pull something so stupid?"  
  
Pettigrew quailed under the cold, angry stare of the group's werewolf. "Don't get bent out of shape, Moony. I wanted to show you guys I could come up with something brilliant. And since she fell for it, it proves how good I am."  
  
Potter exhaled in an irritated manner. "Yeah, you sure proved it - took advantage of a foreigner and everything. Snipe Hunting? Gods, you are so puerile!"  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"You broke the freaking Truce, you git!" Lupin practically roared. "The whole thing was about good sportsmanship! And you had to [CENSORED] it up because you have the brains of a turnip!"  
  
"Don't be too hard on him, Moony," Black stated. "He did a great job for the little brains that he has."  
  
"That's right!" Pettigrew agreed. "Hey -!"  
  
Black shook his head. "The only problem was that you should have been gone by the time she got into the woods."  
  
"Yeah," he admitted. "This was my first time on this end of it - all my other Snipe Hunts, I was the guy holding the bag."  
  
None of them were really surprised by the use of the plural 'hunts'.  
  
"Have you forgotten?" Potter pointed out. "That they are now obligated to pay us back the worst way possible? Because of Wormtail's ingenious cliché, we're ALL going to have to pay for it!"  
  
Black's face fell. "Oh, crap."  
  
Lupin slammed his forehead into his hand. "Pray that Snivellus calms her down, or else we're doomed. I heard she brought a battle-axe with her this year."  
  
"Nothing will come of it," Black said nonchalantly. "You'll see."  
  
Potter and Lupin exchanged a look that plainly said they did not believe him.  
  
----------  
  
"I'm going to drop Cornish Pixies down ALL of their trousers!" Martis ranted. "I'm going to turn all their clothes into powder and they'll have to run around in their bedding! No! I'll turn their clothes into honey and drop them in an anthill!"  
  
Sev watched her pace around the tiny Conversation Room as he sat on the floor. "I think it's time you took another breath," he commented.  
  
She did so. "I'll find every single piece of underwear owned by every girl in the school and put them in their robes and make it explode out in the middle of dinner! I'll replace all THEIR underwear with sandpaper! I'll put hair growth on their palms!"  
  
"Martis, you've been at this for over an hour," Sev informed her.  
  
"We'll Poe their butts - throw them in a room with a swinging pendulum, then brick up the entrance to bury them alive! No, we'll cover them in dragon pheromones and drop them off on a Romanian reservation! We'll feed them Polyjuice Potion mixed with the hairs of the Wizard World's Most Wanted - by the time it wears off, they'll be in Azkaban! We'll have them caught wearing Madame Hooch's boots and with whips in their hands!"  
  
"Why not just chase them with your axe?"  
  
"No ... no. We won't hurt them - we'll CRUCIFY them! Just like the Romans did to their criminals! Nails through the wrists - bam, bam!"  
  
"If we ask Filch nicely he may help," Sev remarked.  
  
Martis plopped down next to him and buried her face against her drawn up knees. "I've been bested by Rat-boy! Peter Pettigrew - who, on his best days, can't outwit a used teabag! This is humiliating! HE WILL PAY FOR THIS!"  
  
Sev stroked her hair, and then her head suddenly whipped up and she stared up at the stained glass ceiling.  
  
"Oh, Great Mother - oh, Great Mother - " she gasped.  
  
"What??" Sev asked in alarm. It sounded like she was in pain, but the look of religious fervor upon her face told otherwise.  
  
"It was there - just for a moment ... I could feel it ... "  
  
"What?"  
  
"The Ultimate Prank. The Prank to End All Pranks. I could see it so clearly ... " She shook her head. "But it's gone."  
  
Sev whispered a silent prayer of thanks to Spirals' Goddess. "You are weird!"  
  
"What?" she asked this time.  
  
"You have religious visions of pranks! I had a vision of dying of old age while on detention in the Hogwarts Memorial Crater!"  
  
"I'd never use explosives - that's crude."  
  
----------  
  
The next afternoon, after depositing the still-upset Martis in the Slytherin common room, Sev left the dungeons and headed back outside.  
  
He knew the Gryffindors were doing twilight Quidditch practice on the pitch at this time of year, and he also knew that all the Marauders were going to be there. Since Potter and Black were on the team, that meant Lupin and Pettigrew would be in the stands.  
  
Sev had been humiliated by the Mongrels more times than he cared to remember, and they did take advantage of every thing they could mock - making fun of his looks, hair, nose, robes, his bruises, his jittery nature, his recently-conquered stutter, and a million-and-one other things that were wrong with him.  
  
But it also usually took the entire lot of them to do that. He was used to this.  
  
Martis -with her beauty, wit, intelligence, and energy - was shown up by Peter Pettigrew, whom Professor Sartoris likened to a domesticated turkey that would look up at the raining sky and drown itself.  
  
Pulling his hood over his head, Sev ducked under the stands and began trying to locate Pettigrew in the rapidly increasing darkness.  
  
"Get it, James!" Pettigrew's voice yelled.  
  
There -  
  
Sev approached the back of the boy's figure, the seats the only thing between him and Pettigrew's neck. Reaching through the spaces between the seats, Sev carefully tied the boy's shoelaces together.  
  
That done, he opened a vial and poured the contents all over the hems of the boy's robe that he could reach.  
  
His mission completed, Sev ran back to the school in the darkness.  
  
----------  
  
Sev had an airtight alibi by the time dinner rolled around in the Great Hall.  
  
"You creeps!" Peter Pettigrew wailed as the Marauders carried him to their usual places at the Gryffindor table. "You nasty snakes!"  
  
"What now?" Evan Ryper demanded as he got up. "Not enough that you broke your Truce?"  
  
Pettigrew's face was covered with band-aids. "One of those two - " he pointed at Martis and Sev. " - set my robes on fire and when I tried to put it out, my shoelaces have been tied and I tripped and fell into the pitch!"  
  
Evan Ryper snorted. "It couldn't have been Snips or Spirals because both had spent all afternoon in the common room. Perhaps it was someone else that finds your existence repulsive?"  
  
"Put a sock in it, Ryper," Black snarled. "We know you're defending those greasy little snots."  
  
"You can ask Price - I doubt anyone would contradict the testimony of an arthritic old woman."  
  
McGonagall and Penderdandis' looks ceased the exchange and Ryper sat back down at the Slytherin table.  
  
"Evan," Martis said quietly. "You didn't have to."  
  
"But it was the truth," he replied as he speared his roast with his fork. "I saw you both in the common room all afternoon. If you're going to be accused of something, let it be something that you actually did."  
  
Sev lowered his head and continued picking at his food. Ryper was no fool - the prefect saw him leave the common room and return fifteen minutes later just before dinner.  
  
But was it not Evan Ryper who said 'Slytherins stick together'?  
  
Sev suddenly looked up. "I didn't set his robe on fire."  
  
Martis' mouth opened slightly. "Then what did you do?"  
  
"I put a dissolver - "  
  
The howl of horror from Pettigrew echoed all over the Great Hall, causing conversations to stop and heads to whip around in his direction to see what the commotion was.  
  
Pettigrew was sitting in his under-uniform of gray trousers and sweater and his shirt and tie, while his robe had virtually disappeared save for the plackets resting on his shoulders and the Gryffindor badge on his lap. As his under-uniform began to slowly dissolve, Pettigrew screamed even louder and ran from the Hall.  
  
Martis turned back to Sev. "Well, the dissolver worked, Snips. But who set him on fire?"  
  
They looked around at all the faces in the Great Hall, none of them indicating who might have tried to burn Pettigrew to a crisp in the stands. Although many seemed to approve the uniform dissolver.  
  
Martis and Sev hunkered down and began to worry for different reasons - Martis wondering who else disliked the Marauders and Sev wondering whom else was trying to defend his Martis' honor.  
  
----------  
  
Remus Lupin ignored the rants, moans, and general whining of Pettigrew as the Marauders settled in their dorm room for the night. Potter and Black were having a heated discussion over preparations against the Slytherin Duo, whom they were certain were not involved with the afternoon's attack, but were probably planning something quite insidious and horrible. Lupin buried his face in a book and wondered if Miss Britomartis would appreciate his attempt at punishing the little git by setting his robe on fire.  
  
At least the little rodent did not come up with something as elaborate as a Snape Hunt.  
  
Lupin groaned at his own pun, turning down his lamp and settling into bed.  
  
-End- 


End file.
